


Wind in the Willows

by Kintsugii



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Just his musings, M/M, Selfless smut, hes a lonely boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 08:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kintsugii/pseuds/Kintsugii
Summary: Sometimes even the fire cannot warm the cold within...





	Wind in the Willows

The hum of the wind could be heard outside, pounding the rain like an insistent visitor against the roof of the dwelling. Nestled within the Silent Arbor, Quarrymill was silent this evening, and it gave me time alone with my thoughts while the coo of the breeze shifted through the treetops and shook the leaves and tumbled the drops to the thirsting ground below. I pressed an open palm to my brow, fingers combing back my restless auburn locks to free my vision of their shading veil. The Elder Seed-seer would require this report soon, on the rising of the Ixal presence and the worrying rise of missing men. I gave a grunt without realizing, etching the quill’s tip along the rough of the parchment. The wood wailers were on the wall, and his men in the inn filling themselves with false merriment before the oncoming battle. 

The candle proved more efficient light than it did warmth, and while the jovial dance of the mistress flame was as captivating as always, the cold was chewing on my bones, sinking dampness beneath my skin. I had enough logs here to keep the fire going for the night, or at least until the sun rose once more over the peaks and saplings. This year the first astral moon was particularly sharp, I feel. Of course, that was nothing a roaring fire couldn’t remedy. With a few logs on the hearth and casting some kindle to my candlelight I soon had the makings of a very cozy fire indeed. That would do nicely to warm my hands and bones. After a rub of my hands where I felt the quill would flow more lucidly, I stood ready to continue on my report... until the door flew open with the force of the wind’s breath and a scatter of raindrops wherever the breeze took it. And there he stood.

Eyhadraeg; the Iron Oath. What could I possibly say about him? A great companion and perhaps the closest to what I might consider a friend in these dark times where the world seems ready to tear itself apart from within. Not fully a Roegadyn nor Au ra, yet harboring the best of both traits. Like his name, he was stout and strong; stood proud as an oak and unbending to the howl of the wind. Half-breed, I recall... though save a few features of his Au ra blood, his form seemed like any other sea wolf. Strong, proud, arms strong enough to tear you in half by your ankles. The things that set him apart were the heavy horns of onyx feeding out from a parting between the braids of gold and obsidian and the almost haunting glow of those golden eyes, the rim of the iris glowing in the deepest night. Something about helping him see in the dark? It was fascinating – I had not had dealings with many Au ra so I could only imagine this was common. Yet the imposing form was simply a shell hiding away the glow of kindness... the warmth and joy he brought to all those around him... or perhaps only I noticed it. It was refreshing, and because of that I always welcomed his company. 

He stood still, soaked to the bone, the water dripping from his very being – the soaked and opened shirt that revealed the racing beads of rain slipping down his sculpted ashen form towards common of slacks that looked anythingbut ordinary when he wore them. He did not move, and his eyes seemed downcast as if thinking. Perhaps I had been staring? Ah, where were my manners?!

“I see the storm has no plan to let up out there.” I moved from the flame, sitting myself against the edge of the desk to look out at him, arms crossed over my chest as I raised a brow over one of my sea green eyes. “I imagine the men are enjoying what little time we have before we make our way through the Black Shroud. I was simply finishing the report for the Elder Seedseer.” My eyes turned to the paper, still in mid word, quill tucked proudly in the pot. 

Silence, it seemed he needed a direct question? “I imagine you will write your report for the Admiral closer to the time, yes?” I offered a rather charming smile, if I do say so myself, which was very rare and reserved. After all, I needed my men to both respect and fear my opinion so there was no time for pleasantries. But I could feel my smile cracking uncomfortably as no words came again from the behemoth’s mouth. This was most unusual. I cocked my head, running a hand back through my once again unruly locks before it took place against the edge of the desk adjacent the other one. I sighed a bit louder than I had intended. “Well this hardly seems a cozy chat, ‘Draeg.” I squinted my eyes in hopes of discovering something amiss of him that I might have overlooked. “Is there something on your mind, my friend?”

“You.” 

The voice almost shook the wooden walls, and it almost sounded more a growl than words. Had I done something to annoy him? No, he was always a very straightforward bloke and I couldn’t imagine it could have been anything unusual. But the gravity of it and the force that they seemed to have taken made me query him. 

“I’m sorry?” My words had sounded far more authorative in my mind. Instead they came out like a lost doe. Any other time I wouldn’t have cared if any weakness had shown in my voice around him... but right now he did not seem himself. 

“You.” He repeated again, his eyes finally drawing up to meet me, smoldering alight akin the fire in my hearth. “You have... you *are* on my mind, Alclain.” The words don’t register. What does he mean? I should look to see if this was some trick of my enemy... something sinister... but the distance between us was closed before I have a chance to think. 

I can feel his wet form even through my loungewear. Thal, how can his form feel stronger than it looks... how can his cold, soaked form feel so warm? I choke on my words before I even have time to form them or register what I planned to say in the first place. All I know is that the noise I emitted was like the mewl of a kitten.

He felt heavy on me, too heavy, pressing my back against the parchment, uncaring of the inkwell tipping and pouring it’s shadows like a waterfall to the floor. I should be protesting! I had to have that finished... but it was the last thing on my mind. He had my wrists in one hand as if I were an elfling with ease and every time I began to ask what was happening nothing but my shuddered breath escaped. 

His mouth was on my neck, grazing gently at first before feasting in between his teeth, sucking the blood to welt at the surface and tingle pleasure like a hot stream to pool in my belly. Delirious... I felt delirious, the scent of the fire’s smoke and his thick musk enveloping me in a warm, carnal lust. My mouth was dry, and as I felt his free hand sneak beneath the hem of my trousers I whimpered. 

My body felt tense, and with the graze of his hand grasping around me in such a way, I could feel the swell of my flesh shudder and buzz as with every stroke. His slightly calloused, well worked hands drew me thicker, harder. My head tipped back, and the noises that came from my maw were almost musical. He was playing me like a bard to his lute, drawing out noises and melodies from me I had never made before.

“... Please.” It was the only thing I could manage out, and while I could not see it, I could feel the smile raising over his bearded features. “More?” His breath tickled my ear, hand still even as I bucked impatiently against it. Damns to anything else but him in this moment. I needed it... I could feel the heat twisting knots in my groin that grew tighter and tighter. I could barely form words, arching again insistently to his grip in hopes that might be enough answer. But when no movement came, I somehow found those words, almost begging. 

“Please, Draeg... please.” A mantra of desire that snuck from my lips, brushing the corner of my mouth against the rough stubble at his cheek. It must have been enough, because I could feel his chest rumbling with a chuckle at my response before his hand worked once again along my tense shaft, thumb icing the beads of need swelling from my tip. So close... everything felt so rapid... my breath... my heartbeat, as my hips moved on their own accord and his lips caught my earlobe to suckle and nip. Damn elven ears... why was something so sensitive so prominent? It would be a nightmare on the battlefield surely... but this... this felt wonderful. The twisting coil in my gut was too tight now... and I could feel the approach of something fast – like the final stretch of a race where all was pushed to the limit. Tighter... faster... enough that the sound of the rustling fabric almost overtook the crackling of the fire and the noises of my need in volume.

Then it came, like a snap through the finish line that tight coil could take no more and with a few erratic bucks of my hips ropes of seed spilled forward, enrobing his hand and the front of my trousers. My breath burned in my lungs, and for now everything felt soft... lucid, and his hand continued to milk me until my length fell to slumber in his touch. His head pulled back, looking me over with that same hunger as before... yet laced with that familiar warm glow in his eyes and that smile... a smile I cannot even describe... one that filled you with warmth on even the coldest nights. I smiled... I think, it was hard to tell, everything was almost numb like a dream. But he must have liked it, because his smile grew at my gaze.

“Alclain...” he said softly, hand moving from my wrists, the other sneaking from my trousers and onto my hip. I didn’t need to hear any words... My hands slipped up through the coarseness of his beard, over his ears and hair until I grasped the stone like horns on his head and brought him down closer. I needed to taste his lips.... just once. But as my lips met his... all I felt... all I tasted... was light.

Light.

Ugh... the sun was too bright this morning, one eye peaking open as he stared forward with sleep hazed vision. For a moment Alclain felt my chest tighten, panic filling him as his hands patted along the silken sheets, tousled but otherwise empty. Feeling stickiness across his thighs the bard groaned, snaking a hand back through his hair. 

“Fuck...” he growled, sitting up in his bed, looking through his room as his mind began to sober. “It’s been a while since I had a dream like that...” His eyes downcast, feeling a glower tug the corners of his mouth. “... I wonder how you are, my friend... I wonder if you think of me... as fondly and as often as I you?” He looked up, eyes finally closing as he let out a soft sigh. “I suppose I will have to write a new song.” He stood from his bed; bare form kissed by the speckles of sunlight sifting through the boughs of the hanging willows. 

“... Wherever you are, Nophica keep you safe.”


End file.
